Through the shadow, Luther feels a flash of peaceful memories…

On the ground, Luther sees shoes to the left, a closet door, and beneath him, a welcome rug…

“Home…” Luther thinks as he smiles.

Well, not his home, but a home now that he takes another look around. A staircase and a dining room to the right are in front of him. It’s nice, spacious, and clean. He’d be happy here.

Luther is careful not to get ahead of himself, though. He turns around to open the door behind him, and outside…is actually outside.

There’s a porch to step on! Trees to see! Grass to touch! And a driveway that dips down and connects to the road.

A bad dream, that’s all it was, old boy. It was all just a bad dream…

Luther looks up at the large white home before him. This house is all alone, with no nearby neighbors, quaint and quiet, well-kept and inviting. Certainly not haunted.

It’s no mansion, but it’s better than the sole mansion he’s ever been to (talk about bad first impressions…)! Luther isn’t sure where he is as he doesn’t recognize this home or any of the other classic all-American suburb housing out in the acres beyond. But perhaps if Luther politely asks the residents inside, he can borrow a phone.

Before entering, Luther provides a courtesy knock on the door. He feels like he’s forgetting something, but he can’t put his finger on what exactly. Luther puts his arms behind his back and is all smiles. He jokes to himself, what if he fell through the porch again, just like in his bad dream…

*BOOM* The front door falls backward.

Luther shoots his head inside. “Gosh, SORRY!” His voice echoes through the halls…

There’s no response from anyone or anything…

Luther reenters the house. “If I could borrow a phone, I know just the right guy to fix it. Butthepriceain’tcheap…” *cough* *cough*

Still no response, but when Luther holds out his ear, he can hear faint music down the hall. Ah! That must be why no one can hear a thing!

Luther has an intense internal debate about whether to take off his shoes or keep them on. Will the homeowners interpret him as a humble lost guest or a violent trespasser?

Luther risks it all by keeping his shoes on but has the courtesy to rub his soles on the welcome rug in quick rapid succession to get them sparkling clean. Then, he goes down the hallway following the music…if he gets a shotgun blast to the face, maybe he’ll be remembered for his clean shoes…

…what a swanky living room! No cobwebs, no spiders, and no phonographs! Just a young woman sitting on the couch watching television. The television is surrounded by chunky black tapes of some kind. They look like cassette tapes, but none Luther has seen before.

Luther looks at the television screen. The image is a POV of dark woods approaching a lone-lit cabin hidden by rustling leaves. The television is in full color! Wow! Luther has only seen color televisions in stores and not at a visual fidelity this crisp! This family must be loaded…

The woman is still fixated on the television. She hasn’t acknowledged Luther.

“Excuse me, ma’am. I’m sorry about the door.” Luther puts his hands together.

“Door? Pffffft. I don’t care about that. Daddy will pay someone to fix it. Daddy pays for everything~❤️” The woman slowly turns to Luther. She has a warm, wholesome smile. “Gosh, mister, you seem lost~❤️”

Luther smiles. “Gosh, mister, I seem lost, is right! I hope I don’t trouble you, but may I please use your phone?”

“Of course, it’s in the-” The woman glues herself back to the screen. “OH! OH! My favorite part is coming on!”

Luther watches the POV on the television transition to creeping up on the window…

📺“Something about the campfire curse really raises my survival instincts and my sperm count!” A man with bad acne and a nasally voice wearing a camp counselor jacket “performs his nightly duties” ferociously on a bed with a blonde woman.📺

📺“Oh gawd, Edgar! Oh, gawd. After all these years chasing the killer who keeps returning to the same exact place, I haven’t felt a man’s touch in so long. Pump me with your hot load, you beautiful beast with the voice of an angel!” The blonde woman wearing an FBI jacket clenches the bedsheets. “We’ll repopulate the campground ourselves.”📺

Luther coughs awkwardly at this blunt vulgarity and “hard to tell” if the dialogue is campy on purpose or by accident. Phil Bunningsham is right. They’ll really put anything on television nowadays…

📺 The POV opens the cabin door to heavy synth beats. A broad, wide shadow creeps across the floorboards and stops behind Edgar’s bare, thrusting asscheeks. A bloody gloved hand taps his shoulder…📺

📺“Hey, asshole! Can’t you see I’m busy fucking this hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooe?” Edgar turns his head.📺

📺 The FBI woman slaps Edgar around. “Don’t call me a hoe, you swine! You’re getting pegged again-”📺

📺“...I’m sorry, Dommy Mommy…”📺

📺 The two lovers collectively gasp and hold each other in shock as a hockey-masked serial killer wearing the entrails of dead campers rattles a chainsaw above his head. Slamming the chainsaw down, guts spray the walls…📺

📺 “...at least I won’t die as a virgin…”📺

📺 “Shut up, Edgar. I’m pegging you in hell!”

The tv screen turns static, and the image is gradually lost.

“Oh, poo!” The woman grabs the remote control. “Tracking is messed up again. I told Daddy to buy the best tv!” She frantically hammers around buttons.

“That was her favorite part?” Luther’s face is blue, and he feels like vomiting…

“Gosh, mister! You look ill. Come on, take a seat.” The woman pats the spot next to her. “Don’t be shy. I’ll get the picture back in a second.”

Luther sits. “...what picture was that?”

“Friday the 13th Part XVIIIIIVIIIVIIIIIIII: Camp Crystal Lake, Re-Reckoning, Director’s Cut. It just came out on VHS today.”

“I see…” Luther doesn’t recognize that title or what VHS means, but he can’t help but gaze deeper into the television static…watching…

Watching television…

Watching movies…

Thinking of you…always by my side…if I hadn’t known it would not be forever, then maybe I could’ve been brave for you…

Luther is lost in hazy visions of a young boy and a young girl watching scary movies. That girl loved scary movies, he can’t remember the names of those movies or that girl, but it did happen. It was real…or was it? Those movies that haunted his soul felt real, and so did that girl who moved his heart…what was her name? He may struggle to recall her name, but he can easily recall how he wished he toughed it out and watched more scary movies with her…just a few more…

“GOT IT!” The woman puts the remote back down on the coffee table.

Luther snaps out of his visions as the image on the television returns.

The POV camera on the screen exits the cabin…

“Have you seen this one yet?” The woman jitters in her seat. “It’s the best-OH! I haven’t even introduced myself! I’m Becky! Becky Berrychore!”

“I haven’t seen any of these ones. I was never much for scary movies. I’m a scaredy cat from head to toe.” Luther shakes Becky’s hand. “I’m Luther Knotts. I didn’t wanna impose by demanding names and introductions after stumbling into your nice home.”

“Lucky for you, Mr. Knotts, this chapter in the Friday the 13th saga painstakingly recaps all the previous films~❤️ You’ll be caught up in no time.” Becky giggles. “And it’s uncut and uncensored~❤️” She raises her eyebrows and winks at Luther. “I’ll warn you to close your eyes for any of the…explicit content…” Becky caresses Luther’s thigh. “Hmm, I wonder what else you are from head to toe…”

Luther laughs. Such a silly young lady. Talking about uncensored films and rubbing his thigh. So silly, she must be easily excitable and passionate about her interests. Such a silly wholesome girl with an appreciation for artistic integrity!

Becky leans in closer. “Even though I love scary movies, that doesn’t mean I don’t get scared.” She rubs between her legs. “A girl all alone on a Friday night can get frightened, you know. We can close our eyes together if any scenes get too graphic…” Becky licks her lips.

Luther nods and looks away. Poor thing must be rubbing herself to cope with the fear. Her lips must be dry too. Luther doesn’t judge and respects whatever mental illness she may be suffering from. Instead, he focuses on the television screen.

Hmm…funny…the camera is climbing up a driveway on the tv screen, and the white house at the top looks oddly familiar…

Becky gasps. “OH MY GOD!”

Luther squints at the tv harder with his old man eyes…

“THAT’S MY HOUSE!” Becky stands and puts her hands over her mouth.

When Luther sees the camera peer down at the fallen door, he jolts up instantly.

“The police! We have to call the police!” Becky holds herself.

“Damn straight we do! Where’s the phone!?!?!?!?” Luther seizes her in a panic and sweats bullets.

Becky points over. “In the kitchen, by the-”

Luther disappears in a puff of smoke and abandons the bitch to fend for herself.

Becky rolls her eyes…

Inside the kitchen, Luther forages for THAT PHONE!!! AHH!!! WHERE IS IT!?!?!?!?!??!? He yanks drawers loose and shakes pens, forks, spoons, and sticky notes all over the floor.

Luther hears a cough.

It’s from Becky. She points at the table. “The phone’s right there…”

Luther looks at the weird radio-looking thingy on the table. That’s a phone? He figured it wasn’t, and that’s why he ignored it before.

Luther picks it up. Well, it has buttons like a phone. He dials 9-1-

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP* *BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP* The phone begins to ring…

Becky falls silent as she gets closer to Luther...

Luther taps the flashing green phone icon. He can hear breathing from the receiver and holds it to his ear…

☎️“Do you like scary movies?”☎️ The voice asks on the line.

“It’s for you!” Luther turns to Becky, absolutely ready to wash himself clean of this situation. “I am NOT equipped to deal with this shit, or this girl that needs a mental health professional…” He thinks to himself.

Becky runs up to Luther’s chest. “Mr. Knotts, I’m so scared. Boo-hoo-hoo.” Becky weeps.

☎️“Ho-ho-hoooo. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”☎️

☎️“Are you trying to spend some alone time in there with your girlfriend? I can see that squishy ass from here.”☎️

☎️“You horny old scoundrel. You’re trying soooooo hard to not squeeze it with all your might.”☎️

☎️“Or are you waiting to fuck her like a dog over the countertop? Hehehee, go on. Take your time. I don’t mind watching. Or I can make her watch us while I gut you like a pig if that’s your kink.”☎️

☎️“Or you and I can take turns exploring her. I’m sure she’s beautiful on the inside…WITH HER INTESTINES HANGING OUT!!!”☎️

☎️“HAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!!!”☎️

☎️“....”☎️

☎️“...HEY…”☎️

☎️“HEY! HELLO?”☎️

☎️“HEY FUCKER! I’M TALKING TO YOU!!!”☎️

Luther is not in a talkative mood and ignores the voice from the receiver. He weighs his options, considering if he should try bolting out the front door or if it's safer to go out through the backyard. None of his options involve taking Becky with him.

Luther backs away. “Ya know…I think I dropped my keys outside…I really ought to go-”

Becky squeezes Luther tightly. Pushing her breasts snugly on his chest. “Don’t leave me~❤️”

But Luther would love to leave this bitch right now if he could. He tries to move his arms, but he can barely budge.

Becky squeezes him tighter. Damn, her hold is like that of a wrestler. “We’re safer together…” Becky squishes her titties on Luther more. “Togetherrrrrr~❤️”

It takes effort, but Luther holds his breath, grits his teeth, and wrenches himself free. “If I can get my keys, I can drive us to safety! I’ll warm it up!” Luther bolts off. “Take this, just in case.” Luther bolts back in to hand her a knife before taking off again.

Luther whistles like he’s out of breath and rattles like an ice tray that’s having a stroke as he walks down the hall, opens the front door, leaves, walks down the hall…wait…he should be outside by now. After all, he had just walked out the front door, which should lead him outside…

Luther stops when he gets to the front door again. He opens it and sees the hallway. It’s like looking into a funhouse tunnel…

Luther closes the door, takes a deep breath, and opens the front door again. This time he sees the outside porch and lawn.

Luther closes the door again, waits a few seconds, and opens it. He can still see the outside porch and lawn!!! YES! Luther hangs his shoulders with relief and closes the door.

Something about the looping antics felt awfully familiar to Luther, but now he knows it was just his stressful imagination. The front door of any all-American suburban home ALWAYS leads outside.

Anyway, Luther opens the front door and steps through-

*URP* A knife is dug under Luther’s chin…

*GUHHHH* *GUHHHH* Luther gets lifted into the air as blood streams from his mouth…

“Gosh, mister, leaving a poor defenseless, ready-to-be violated bitch to fend for herself. How cruel!” Becky holds Luther higher with the knife under his chin. She has enough strength in her left arm that it’s practically effortless.

Luther feels all his strength sapping away. He’s defenseless and hopeless. Luther didn’t realize it, but against all logic, he did not escape outside as intended when he stepped through that front door. Somehow, someway, he instantly looped back into the kitchen…

“I was disappointed, mister. I was hoping a crusty perverted old man would come in here and lose himself at the sight of a lonesome girl.” Becky squeezes her boob.

“Breaking down the door, touching me everywhere, forcing me to the floor, and driving hot, long, thick, bulging steel deep inside me underneath the glow of filthy films~❤️” Becky twists the blade. “Deeper, ah, yes, deeper…” Becky huffs and sweats.

Luther wants to scream in pain but doesn’t have the energy to do so. He drops the phone on the floor. Hearing laughter from the receiver.

“Not even a friendly phone call was enough to give you any hints or inspiration…” Becky moans. “Tsk. Tsk. Such a disappointment. The others couldn’t wait to get their hands on me.” She reaches under her shirt to play with her nipple. “Guess I’ll have to please myself first before you finish bleeding out~❤️” She bites her lip.

Becky feels a tap on her shoulder.

“You can please yourself AFTER you finish putting my friend down.” Someone sassily states.

“Well, I wouldn’t have to be pleasing myself first if your friend would find his balls and-” Becky turns around…

“A GHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOST!!! (with nipples?!)” Becky has never seen anything so horrible in her entire life and flees from the kitchen like cannon fire.

Lyra scratches her cheek. Feeling surprised and awkward…

*BOOM* *CRASH* Sounds of breaking wood and cracking glass are heard from the living room…

Luther falls to the floor.

“Luther, honey! Luther, listen!” Lyra squeezes his hand.

Luther’s eyelids are heavy, so so heavy, as he gobbles his own puddle of blood…

“Luther, listen, I can’t do this for you. Reach into your deck and…LUTHER!”

…

“LUTHER!”

…

“LUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRR!”

-CHAPTER END-

-Nightmare’s overture-